


Fractal Waltz

by HomuraBakura



Series: Arc V Rarepair Week 2018 [1]
Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! ARC-V
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brief Meeting, F/F, For Arc v Rarepair Week 2018, dance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-08
Updated: 2018-07-08
Packaged: 2019-06-01 10:56:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15141566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HomuraBakura/pseuds/HomuraBakura
Summary: Masumi is feeling a bit out of place at this fancy business party her father brought her to.  He encourages her to find someone to dance with, but there's no way she's getting on that dance floor first...





	Fractal Waltz

**Author's Note:**

> For Arc V Rarepair Week 2018, Prompt 1: Dance

 

She feels like an impostor in here. 

Masumi lingers close to her father’s side, trying not to look nervous as she glances out at the exceedingly fancy party.  There are full-uniformed waiters in suits carrying around platters with goblets of wine or tiny sandwiches, guests in expensive suits and dresses, a  _ real crystal chandelier _ hanging over the ballroom and making the marble floors glow.  Masumi feels suddenly very stupid and childish in the golden dress that she had thought was so fancy in the mirror at home.

Masumi waits quietly and politely, however, as her father talks to his business partners about the gem trade, politics, things that she absolutely knows about and wants to interject in, but is kind of worried these older men will just laugh at her.  Outside of her father, she doesn’t trust men to take her seriously simply because she is young, and a girl.

Not being able to be a part of the conversation is chafing, though, and she resists the urge to yawn.  She already ate one of the little sandwiches and it isn’t satisfying at all. She wants another one.

Her eyes wander around the room.  Everyone here is just standing around talking, so there’s nothing interesting to take a look at, either.  There’s famous people here, but she can’t tell from a distance who’s who. She wonders why her father even brought her along.

In the back of the room, a violin picks up a tuning hum, and she turns over her shoulder to look.  The small band is finally set up, and the pianist is tickling out a few keys while the other instruments match the violin to tune themselves.  Masumi sees at least one nervous looking couple edge towards the dance floor, clinging to each other’s hands, but once the music starts playing, no one, including them, starts dancing.  Masumi can’t really blame them. She’d be too awkward to go out first, too. Not that she’d go out at all; dancing isn’t something she gets along with. Hokuto told her once that her ‘dancing’ was more like the Guinness World Record for number of toes stomped on.

Masumi starts to turn back towards the clump of people when her father puts a hand on her shoulder, startling her.

“Oe-san and I are going to step into another room for a moment,” he says.  “Why don’t you find someone to talk to?”

“Oh, ah, of course,” Masumi says at his wink, knowing what he really means is to find a nice boy from a good family to start making a connection with.  She forces a smile for her father’s sake and he squeezes his shoulder. Then the clump of people walk on, and Masumi’s left all by herself, staring after them. 

Now she doesn’t just feel like an impostor.  She feels like a very  _ visible _ impostor.

She licks her lips.  Taking in a deep breath, she puts her shoulders back and tries to look like she knows what she’s doing.  She balances on her heels and walks towards the dance floor, where it seems the youngest members of the party have congregated without quite going out to dance yet. 

Masumi reaches the edge.  The music is nice and soft, almost like background restaurant sound rather than something to dance to.  She glances towards a few copses of teens her age, trying to guess if there’s anyone she can slip into conversation with.  Everyone seems to be preoccupied with each other, though, as though they came in groups to start with. One boy pushes his friend onto the dance floor, and the boy laughs and scurries back with a flush.  No one is dancing, though it looks like some people are thinking about it, they’re just too nervous to begin.

“God, what a drag of a party, right?”

The voice startles Masumi, and she nearly topples over from her thin heels.  A light, firm hand grabs her elbow, though, steadying her.

“I mean, I told my dad that this music was going to be so boring; no one is going to want to dance to this, right?”

Masumi, balance regained, finally takes a look at the girl who is still holding onto her arm.

She’s a half head taller than Masumi and much paler, her thick maroon and pink hair done up in a complex, but still half loose and wavy style.  She has quick lavender eyes and a dress to match, with a poofy skirt just shy of an actual ballgown width.

The girl flashes Masumi a large grin when Masumi meets her eyes, looking less like a proper rich girl and more like a mischievous fox.

“I...I wouldn’t really be dancing anyway,” Masumi gets out finally.

The girl looks aghast, but it seems performative, like she’s being overdramatic on purpose.

“Wouldn’t dance?  But where’s the fun in that?  Hang on just a moment, I’ll fix that.”

She squeezes Masumi’s elbow, gives her a cross-eyed grin, and then hurries across the dance floor to the band.  Masumi stares after her in a vague state of shell-shock, not entirely positive what just happened. Didn’t that girl look familiar, too?  Masumi couldn’t put her finger on it.

The girl leans over to the conductor and puts her elbows on the podium, head in her hands.  The conductor looks a bit miffed, but Masumi can see the girl’s mouth moving, and after a beat, the conductor sighs heavily, and nods.  The girl brightens with a dazzling smile.

Is it just Masumi, or is her face getting hot?

The girl bounces back from the podium, and practically runs back across the dance floor to Masumi.  She looks flushed already from the movement, but she’s still smiling that dazzling smile.

“Come on,” she says, extending a hand.

“I’m sorry?”

“Dance with me!  I promise it’ll be fun.”

Masumi feels her mouth dropping open, staring at the girl’s extended hand.  The girl waits for a moment, and then she makes a dramatic gasping sound.

“Oh, you’re right, I’m doing it wrong,” she says.  She puts one foot back behind her, and sweeps a low bow, holding her hand upwards to Masumi.  “Please, madam, may I have this dance?”

The music has changed, Masumi realizes.  It’s moved from a somber background noise into a sort of a bounce, and it’s getting faster.  The tone romps and spins around them. The girl is still waiting, the chandelier’s light playing over the shine of her hair like rubies.

A laugh trickles out of Masumi’s lips in spite of herself.

“Well, if I step on your toes, it’s on you,” she says, taking the girl’s hand.

The girl’s entire face lights up, eyes like shining amethyst, and Masumi feels that heat across her cheeks again.

“I knew you’d say yes,” she says, and with a giggle, she spins Masumi onto the floor, Masumi stumbling to keep up.

The girl pulls Masumi close, close enough to make Masumi feel the heat rise further. Her hand alights on Masumi’s shoulder while Masumi awkwardly puts her hand at the girl’s waist, still holding the other one.

“It’s really easy,” the girls says.  “Just have fun!”

And then they spin.

The music twists and jumps and bounces, and the girl does too.  This isn’t any ballroom dance that Masumi’s ever learned, and it isn’t the bouncing up and down from high school dances she’s been too, either, but something in between.  Masumi has to match to keep up, bouncing up and down, letting the girl twirl and dip her a few times, and then bobbing back up for the two of them to practically gallop across the floor together.

The song is over so much faster than Masumi could have guessed, and they spin to a stop.  Masumi practically collapses against the girl and the girl collapses back, their arms around each other’s waists and their heads falling against each other’s shoulders.  The girl is laughing, and Masumi feels hot and sweaty and the shake of the girl against her is making her laugh, too. She hasn’t even thought about the people around the floor that must be watching them, hasn’t even had a chance to feel embarrassed.

When she looks up, though, it looks like no one is staring.  The couples who lingered on the edge of the floor are there with them, now, also gasping and giggling for breath from the exertion of the dance.

The music starts again, but it’s a slow song once more this time, and Masumi’s heart begins to slow.  It’s only now hit her just how physically close she is to the other girl, and how...intimate it feels.  

And also, how little she wants to let go.

But the girl lightly untangles herself from Masumi, hands sliding down her arms to grab hold of Masumi’s hands.  For a moment, she just looks at Masumi, shining amethyst eyes meeting Masumi’s, and it’s the most beautiful gaze Masumi’s ever seen in that heated moment.

“Ray!” a voice calls across the floor.  “Ray, come here.”

The girl’s eyes twitch.  Then her smile softens.

“Thank you for the dance,” she whispers.

Masumi opens her mouth, but she doesn’t have the time to say a word before the girl has leaned in, and her lips brush against Masumi’s cheek.

Then her hands are gone from Masumi’s and the girl is hurrying off to the end of the floor, leaving Masumi along with the imprint of her body slowly wafting away into the cool ballroom air.

The heat of her kiss remains, however, and Masumi lightly touches the spot with one finger.

“Oh,” she says then, eyes widening.  “Ray? Akaba Ray?”

She just danced with the daughter of the most powerful company in the world.  Wait til her father hears about  _ that _ .

Or, she thinks, fingers still on her cheek. Maybe this will be her own little secret.


End file.
